Out of the Darkness
by DreamingInOblivion
Summary: I stare into his chocolate eyes as he laughs blissfully. And I laugh with him. However, its a real laugh that passes through my lips, one that does not come out as a choke and strains your cheeks as you force a smile in the effort to maintain the facade that you are not hurting inside. Such a simple gesture really; a laugh.


**Disclaimer: **

**This story is not a reflection of the thoughts/feelings of real people. This is merely the rambling of an individual's imagination and all characters in this work are fictitious. **

**A/N: Hello all you wonderful people who chose to click on this story. I must warn you this is my first fnafiction, however I have been reading fanfiction for many years (mainly dramiones) now and upon discovering a lack of none-Phan danisnotonfire, chose to participate. Just to let everyone know this is NOT a Mary Sue. I feel as though it is obvious when an author forces themselves into a story so please comment and let me know if my story contains any "Mary Sue-esque" qualities. Also this story is going to have some darkness too it. I find that truly great fanfiction has some dark to it so do not go into this story expecting pure fluff (although rest assured there will be some cheerful times as well). **

I stare out the window pain of the black Mercedes, watching as the droplets of rain cascaded down the side.

"This can be a great opportunity to get a fresh start," a voice remarks, his plump face rough with 5 o'clock shadow attempting in vain to comfort his silent passenger, however they pass through uncaring ears.

"A fresh start" I mock morbidly. How can anyone with even the slightest capacity for empathy refer to the deaths of your parents as an opportunity for a "fresh start"? I suppose I shouldn't be too hard on Uncle Henry, he is only trying to comfort me after my life has disintegrated. I am like a tree squirrel who just had their forest decimated be mankind; lost and alone I must journey to a new place to call my own in the hopes of seeking reconciliation with the disastrous events that have just occurred. But I ask how can anyone hope to feel whole again when they lose both their parents to something as trivial as a car crash. The two people I love the most ripped away by hunk of metal, only to become another statistic on the number of annual car deaths a year.

"We are here," my Uncle, remarks. I take a glance through the car window and see a rather drab looking brick house with basic rectangular windows adorned with black shutters and a roof laid with matching black shingles.

"Here is the place I will be living for the next two months, a house with no originality," I remark internally as I follow my Uncle on through the waist high black rod iron gate and onto the cobbled pathway lasting only a few feet before reaching the lack-luster brown wood door.

The houses exterior mirroring the houses built beside it. This building is just one of many, just as my parents are one of many who succumbed to a tragic fate in a vehicle built for convenience; how fitting.

I suppose an individual of no sentimentality may refer to the time of my parent's passing as "convenient", in that they perished two days after my graduation from high school. So now I will be spending my summer before college in England, dragged away from the California sun a mere three days after the death of my parents to wallow in the dreary weather of London with my godfather/uncle before I depart to university. Yes, how convenient indeed.

As we enter the house the sent of damp cloth and moth balls seems to linger. When I investigate the interior I can't help but notice how my uncle's house seems to be an accurate reflection of his character; messy judging by the items haphazardly strewn about the premises but to the trained eye has an underlying tone of endearment.

"Follow me to where you will be staying," my uncle's rough English dialect states. I ascend the narrow wooden stairs behind my uncle's redundant figure as the wood panels below my feet creek; announcing the amount of years this house has been through.

"Here we are. Now the bathroom is the door directly across from yours and if you need anything my room is downstairs down the hallway and on the left," my uncle informs with the etiquette of a proper host. His voice drops to a lower volume and he adds, "You know Elizabeth should you ever need someone to talk to my door is always open."

I suppose I should take him up on his offer, grief is supposedly better served if the suffering talk to someone about it, and who better to talk to than a family member who lost his sweet wife, Judy, just last year. However, I simply give Henry a curt nod and thank him in response and Henry leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. I waver around the idea of speaking to my uncle about some of my thoughts and feelings surrounding the incident however I decide against the idea, coming to the conclusion that Henry lost his wife to old age and would not truly know the pain I am suffering from having a loved one ripped away by fate.

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I did not get much sleep that night. How could I with the nightmares of the deceased haunt my dreams? The next morning I awoke to the aroma of bacon waffling against my nose.

After getting out of bed I more properly examined my new room. The ceilings were relatively high, making the small box shaped room seem larger, and had he same cream paint color of the walls. There was only one window and it overlooking the paved street just outside the small home. The bed sheets were a simple white and the comforter atop it was thankfully a duvet of navy blue color. With the cold English air whistling in through the cracks of this old structure I took comfort in this down filled bed adornment.

I exited the doorway and proceeded into the small bathroom. It was, like the rest of the house, lacking in any true interest with the walls being a neutral cream like the rest of the rooms and a shower/bath lined with white square tile. The only feature containing any redeemable vitality was the shower curtain; white with different shades of blue polka dots.

Looking in the mirror above the sink it was plain to see I had a rather fitful sleep the night before. My long auburn hair was even frizzier than usually and stuck out at odd ends while my hazel eyes seemed to be devoid of life and had dark bags beneath them; the contrast making my light complexion look even more washed out.

After I vainly attempted to tame my hair I slowly meandered down the stairs to discover Uncle Henry in the kitchen frying up what appeared to be either a thick slice of bacon or a thin slice of ham. I was too hungry to care about the correct term for what this British breakfast meat was called and simply ate the pork in silence as my uncle sat across from me on the round wood table that looked like it had seen better days.

"There is also some toast in the toaster as well as some jam and butter," my uncle stated. I was grateful for the fact that Henry chose not to remark upon the bags under my eyes or the redness said eyes had attained through last night's fit of nightmares.

"Thank you Henry I really appreciate you taking me in and making me breakfast this morning," I say.

"Oh its no bother at all. After all what is family for if not to look after each other in times of hardship," Henry replies. I smile at this statement and we finish the rest of our meal in silence.

While I was helping clean the dishes I choose to ask, "Henry I don't suppose I would be allowed to go to Piccadilly Circus today?"

Henry considers the question for a moment then replies, "Well I'm not sure that would be such a good idea you wandering about London without any supervision."

"Henry I am eighteen and capable of taking care of myself, besides the tube station is right across the street and it has a direct line to Piccalilli. Also I have my phone to call you should I need anything, and I know you have work all day so I just thought that being outside and moving is what I need right now," I argue.

Henry looks thoughtful as he digests my words then concedes, "Well I suppose you're right it would do you some good to get some fresh air. However, you need to promise me that you will be very careful there are some shading folk wandering around the streets you know."

"Thank you Uncle Henry," I respond graciously as I hug him.

"Ok well I best be off to work. Call me if you have any issues and be sure to be back at the house by five when I get off work," my uncle states as he leaves the house suitcase in hand.

I put the now clean dishes away as I think about the days to come. I am happy Henry decided to let me go to Piccadilly, I don't think I could mentally stand being confined to this small house for hours. I need to keep myself busy, that way I can avoid thinking about _them._

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I checked to make sure I had everything I needed in my purse then grabbed my coat and was out the door. Getting my oyster card from the tube was simple enough despite the mass amount of people rushing by me and the map within the tube was easy to understand so I was exiting the tube at Piccadilly without much of an issue.

I began to study the map on my phone in order to find a café I had googled earlier but it became apparent that looking down at a phone screen while moving was not the brightest of ideas when I smacked straight into another pedestrian.

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed as I fell to the ground while I heard the other individual release their own set of swear words.

I looked up to find an outstretched hand and as my eyes followed the hand up the arm and towards the face of the other crash victim was none other than Dan Howell. The _danisnotonfire_ Dan Howell, the Dan Howell I used to spend long periods of time watching through a computer screen, youtube Dan Howell. And I just crashed into him and fell on my ass. Brilliant.

**A/N: Ok my lovelies please comment on what you think of the story so far (any critique even negative is greatly appreciated). I already have a good basic plotline on how I want to story to pan out so updates should not take too long. Also if anyone sees any typos feel free to point them out as it is now I have no Beta so despite re-reading this multiple times I probably still made errors. I would also like to note that I know this is a rather slow start just keep in mind I had to establish a lot of background information for this story and now that I have written out the introduction to everything I can focus more on plot development.**


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